The Other Butler
by Sushibear144
Summary: This has probably been done, but not yet seeing it... what would have happened if Rhett had married Belle?
1. Chapter 1

"I do." Rhett glanced at the woman standing next to him and nearly laughed. There she stood in a flaming red dress that was cut so low he would not have been the least bit surprised had the priest fainted. But, as he understood it, this priest had seen far more than this. He was one of Belle's regulars.

His father had kicked him out because Rhett had refused to marry a girl, and that very action had lead him here—to an alter. Their parting words echoed through his mind. He needed to find honor. He couldn't help but wondered what his father would think of him now. Marrying a whore, not because he loved her, not because he had wanted to, but because she was pregnant by some faceless man and he wanted to protect that unborn child from the hatred he had faced. Would the honorable Mr. Butler see the honor in this sacrifice? Would he be proud of his son for giving this unborn child the Butler name? Of course not. But it gave Rhett a wicked sense of satisfaction knowing that Belle Walting was about to be Steven Butler's daughter-in-law. If the child was a boy, he might even name him Steven the second, just because he knew how much that would gall the old man.

So much had changed these past eighteen months. Until last week, he had known he was not a marrying man. But just because he would never be a husband did not mean he couldn't have a child, and Belle's child would do just as well as any other. Besides, Belle understood him. She knew that this was not a real marriage. This was a way for him to give her child legitimacy and nothing more. She would never impeded his freedom. She would continue to work, and he would continue to visit her when it suited him, just as he would any one of the countless other women he had discovered since leaving Charleston.

They had agreed that the child would be raised by her aunt until old enough to go to boarding school. They would tell a modified version of the truth. Belle had to live in the city because she had taken up employment working for one of the finest families in the south. She did in fact service several of the best families. And the father was overseas making a name for himself. Rhett did intend to make a name for himself, and the child's father was indeed now overseas. They both intended to visit the child as often as their schedules permitted. Between them, they would ensure the child would know love and want for nothing.

He kissed the bride. It was done. He lifted the flask, ready to take another swallow, but wouldn't you know it, it was empty. He could get more in a couple of minutes, after they signed the paperwork. To celebrate—not to quiet his nerves.

When they exited the little chapel, Belle pointed across the street.

"Oh, look Rhett. Isn't that baby precious?" She reached down, touching her belly, and wore a smile the size of Texas.

He looked in the direction she pointed and saw Ellen Robillard carrying a child of about one. He took Belle by the elbow and dragged her down the street away from the happy little family. Yes, he wanted his father to find out about his impromptu marriage, but Miss Robillard, or what ever her name was these days, was connected to his mother. He had not quite reconciled himself to sharing his news with her. Suddenly, Belle's choice of wedding gowns was less amusing. If he had been spotted with her, a letter would be dispatched within the hour.

"Rhett, honey? What are you doing? Where are we going?" Belle asked. She teetered along as fast as her legs could carry her.

"I know that woman," he said under his breath.

Belle's eyes went wide. "That wasn't your baby was it?"

"God, no! I just… I don't want to spend the first hour of our honeymoon listening to news about my family." He had not lied exactly.

A wicked grin spread across Belle's face and all thoughts of the adorable baby girl with bright green eyes were swept into a dark corners of her mind. "Well why didn't you say so?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for such short chapters. Since this is just for fun, I decided to just write as the mood strikes , which probably means a bunch of short but frequent chapters. Thank you for the reviews and follows! Writing is so much more fun when you get to hear readers thoughts. **

"Look, Frank, we both know the war will break out any day now, and once that happens, none of the buyers you are using will have the wherewithal to get your cotton to the factories up north or across the Atlantic. Now, I know the sea routes personally and have the necessary connections…"

Frank Kennedy pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. It was the fourth time he'd done so in the past twenty minutes.

There was no need to turn to divination to know this man wanted to be somewhere else. Rhett sat back in his chair and fished a cigar case out of his breast pocket. "If I were a betting man, which I am, I would say you either find my conversation tedious or you have somewhere you need to be."

Frank's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. Rhett was impressed. He did not think a man could achieve such a color naturally. As he returned his watch to its pocket, Frank said, "I made a commitment to join a few neighbors this afternoon." His eyes trailed off toward the door. Rhett was certain Mr. Kennedy was withholding information.

"Should I be nervous?" Rhett asked, glancing around the room. "Now that I've had a look around, it seems this place has cleared out mighty fast."

"One of the local boys has come of age and his family is throwing a little party," Frank answered. His eyes shifted and beads of sweat formed on his brow. "Tedious obligation. They may have gone a little overboard with the invitations."

"So you are off to this little soirée?" Rhett asked. His eyes twinkled with amusement. He couldn't imagine anything more entertaining that watching Mr. Kennedy's internal battle between his southern hospitality, which dictated he extend an invitation, and the man's desire to preserve his reputation from being connected to a reprobate.

"Well…I have business connections with the host. The back corner of my land is adjacent to his. I couldn't very well refuse…."

_How will he react if finances are part of the equation_?

"I understand completely. It would be unforgivable to be late, but it's a shame I won't be out this way again before next season."

Frank reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. He used it to dab his forehead. Rhett removed a cigar from his case and offered one to Frank. Frank held up a hand, indicating his refusal.

_He is going to sit on the fence all day at this rate_. Rhett reaches up and rubbed his chin. "I could stop by the livery stables and hire a horse. If we hitched to your wagon, we could finish this conversation en route." Dollar signs flashed through his mind as he imagined the number of farmers that would be attending this event.

"Yes. That way you can get back in time for the afternoon train," Frank said. The lines in his face melted. He obviously had not considered that Rhett had no intention of missing this opportunity.

It was not until they arrived that Rhett leaned the party was being held at Twelve Oaks, one of the finest estates in Clayton County. When they reached the stables, Rhett asked for directions to the nearest privy. Frank did not figure out Rhett Butler had decided to invite himself to stay until a few hours later. And by then, it was too late.


	3. Chapter 3

When he had arrived, Rhett had every intention of charming the powerful men to ensure his future was lucrative. Little did he know a beautiful young vixen had already arrived and had beaten him to the table. She had her sights set on the bevy of younger men, so their targets did not exactly overlap, but this didn't prevent him from becoming distracted.

Rhett had always been a non-conformist, but he had needed to be kicked from his home to learn how to use his natural gifts to hustle. This girl—she had half the people eating out of her hand while the other half stood by glaring at her with envy. She couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen, but she was able to do what it had taken him years to learn all the while maintaining her veneer of respectability and, it was clear from the moment she laid eyes on her, her father adored her. The more he watched her work the room, the more intrigued he became. His plan to locate suppliers was abandoned in favor of the much more pleasurable pastime of studying a natural talent.

By the time lunch had ended and the ladies had retired for a respite, Rhett had accepted that he would be staying at Twelve Oaks longer than expected. He would need to remain for the ball. How could he not? It was likely his only opportunity to dance with that beguiling creature. But since his views on the war were not entirely welcome, and his presence not entirely sanctioned, he thought it best to disappear to a quiet corner for a while.

He was pleased to see the family that owned Twelve Oaks, the Wilkes, enjoyed reading. Few of his acquaintances shared this particular passion, and given his constant travels, he could not be expected to keep a well stocked library. He scanned the shelves and stopped when his eyes fell on a name that caught his attention. With a copy of _The Scarlet Letter_ in hand, he made his way to the couch and, seeing no reason not to, he decided to lie down and make himself comfortable.

He never did get to finish that book because, sometimes, real life just makes fiction boring by comparison. Rhett would be the first to tell you he was no gentleman, but even so, it didn't feel right recounting exactly what happened next. Let's just say as he lay there reading, two people entered that room. One did all that was noble, right, and expected, while the other proved to be a selfish, delusional child with the temper of a demon. But both people left their impression on Rhett. He wasn't ready to admit it, but that thirty minutes altered the course of his life. Some part of him was now determined to loath one of the intruders and worship the other.

He was not the only one whose life encountered a pivotal moment on that specific day. War had broken out and this news caused the festivities to be cut short. As he walked to the stables to retrieve his horse, Frank Kennedy came running up behind him.

"Boy am I happy to see you're still around, Butler. I have thought about your offer and will take it. You can have the rights on the next three harvests."

"Glad to hear it Frank. I was thinking of buying from a few more farmers in the region. We passed a farm on the way here. I think you said it was owned by the O'Hara family? Was that cotton they were growing?"

"You are right on both accounts. But if you're thinking of talking to Mr. O'Hara before you leave today, I think you'll be out of luck. With news of the war and his eldest getting engaged, I can't see him willing to talk about crops."

"Now I heard about the war, but I think there must be some confusion about the engagement. I think it's the eldest Wilkes child getting engaged."

"Well, with the news of war, it looks like there will be at least half a dozen wedding announcements this week. You know how it is with young people. They can be impulsive."

"They can indeed," Rhett said thinking back to his own hasty marriage. He felt as though he were sitting at a poker table and the river card had been dealt, leaving him holding nothing. His heart raced. Surely, there was some mistake. Frank was an idiot. Scarlett O'Hara could not be getting married. "So… out of curiosity…who exactly will be marrying into the O'Hara family?"

"His name is Charles Hamilton. He's from Atlanta."

Rhett nodded. It seemed he would be stopping by Atlanta before heading down to New Orleans. Everyone has their secrets and it was only right that Mr. O'Hara knew everything about his daughter's suitor.


	4. Chapter 4

Belle had been hoping to retire early today, but when news of the war spread through the town, she knew it would be a late night. Such news was bound to bring in business, and as the evening wore on, regulars and new customers flooded in by the dozens. Some came to celebrate, some came to make sure they had fully experience life just in case enlistment meant matching off to an early death. Yes, Belle could read the needs of most men, and as she had predicted, tonight her business required every employee to give things their all.

Still, this time she wouldn't be entertaining in her bedroom. Tonight was special.

"Two doubles," Charlotte said walking up to the bar.

Belle wiped two glasses and started filling them.

Charlotte looked over her shoulder and winked at one of her favorite customers. "Oh, and Sara needs a bottle of your best Old Crow Bourbon."

Those words made a tingle travel up Belle's spine. She looked up, and in the process, nearly poured the contents of the bottle she held all over the bar. After setting down the bottle, she asked, "Where is Sara?" Her eyes scanned the room frantically. The urgency in her voice caused Charlotte to jump.

"She's just brought a customer upstairs. He asked for a bottle to be sent up."

Belle reached over and grabbed Charlotte's wrist. Pulling the young girl forward, she locked eyes with her and asked in a clear, slow voice, "What did Sara's customer look like?"

"He was a handsome fellow, maybe in his thirties, with dark hair and a clipped mustache. He…he sounded like he was from Charleston." Charlotte spoke rapidly and tripped over her words. She struggled to pull away from her employer.

"Rhett…" Belle's grip slipped. Her eyes took on a far off look. Within a minute, she recovered from her daze, gathered her skirts, and flew from the bar up the stairs.

If Belle had not been so excited and happy he had come, the thought he would go with one of her girls, tonight of all nights, would have broken her heart. The fact he was with Sara would have been especially insulting. She was a petite, young thing with hair of ebony. She was Belle's antithesis. But all Belle could think as she took the stairs two at a time was that he was here. He had come to Atlanta to celebrate their anniversary—together.

When she reached Sara's room, she considered knocking, but this was Rhett. There could be nothing behind that door she hadn't seen before. She threw open the door, and despite her resolve, the pangs of jealousy struck her. Her husband, who was in a very compromising position, glared at her, and Sara jumped nearly two feet in the air.

"Christ, Belle, why are you here?" His voice confirmed his annoyance but this alternative was a welcome change from his cold indifference.

Belle turned to the skinny brunette and said, "Sara, get out." As soon as the girl exited, Belle closed the door and crossed toward Rhett. Her arms were outstretched and she was beaming. "You came home," she said.

Before she had reached him, Rhett had spring to his feet and refastened his pants. "Stop right there, Belle."

"Are you still mad at me, honey? I told you I won't try it again."

A low chuckle echoed through the room. "No, you won't. Because I would not touch you with a ten foot pole."

"Rhett, can't we let bygones be bygones? I made a mistake."

"So did I," Rhett replied. "I never should have married you. I should have known you would get too attached and try to keep me prisoner."

Tears pooled in Belle's eyes. "But you love children. I only wanted to give you…"

"You can turn off the waterworks." His eyes were hard and cold. "You damn well know that pregnancy was your attempt to try to trap me and had nothing to do with love. I have never lied to you, Belle. You know I have never, and will never, love you. You tried to renege on our deal. If you were a man, I'd have shot you for it."

"But I took care of it."

Rhett sighed and picked up his hat from the table.

"Are you leaving?" Belle threw herself in front of the door. "You can't leave. You came home. You came to see me."

"This," he waved around the room, "is not my home and I am not here to see you. I need to gather some information. It has nothing to do with you." He put on his hat.

"I can help you," she pleaded. "I know half the men in this town."

"You can help me by signing those papers." He buttoned his jacket.

Belle felt the air catch in her chest. Even now, after all these years, she struggled to resist his wishes. "No," she said softly.

"I was such a fool." He brushed past her and yanked the door open. He was half way out when he stamped. "I'm staying at the National. Send over the girl I was with. I'm in the mood for a brunette." With that he stormed off, leaving his wife behind to collapse into sobbing heap.


	5. Chapter 5

Rhett stood outside the office of Henry Hamilton, esquire. Much to Rhett's annoyance, Sara hadn't heard of a Charles Hamilton. He knew this lack of association probably meant the young man seldom drank, gambled, or engaged with the women of the evening. She had, however, given him the name of the man whose name was painted across this building. Rhett hoped this Hamilton was a relative of Scarlett's suitor. If anyone knew what sort of skeletons were kept in a person's closet, it was a relative.

He walked inside the building and removed his hat. Turning to the clerk he said, "I have an eleven o'clock appointment."

The young man looked down at a ledger before replying, "Right this way, Mr. Butler."

Rhett winced at the sound of his father's name but followed the boy into the dark office of a seasoned bachelor. Rhett recognized the signs. The room lacked all feminine touches, and those vices men normally hid out of view, were on full display, presumably for easy access. Clearly, Mr. Hamilton was a whiskey man. Rhett turned to find a man, several years older than himself, standing behind a large desk. He waved to a seat.

"Please make yourself comfortable, Mr…."

"Please, call me Rhett."

"Very well — Rhett. I'm Henry Hamilton. What brings you here today?"

Rhett settled into the leather chair and crossed one leg over the other. "Well, I recently negotiated with a local land owner who is going to sell me his yield for the next three years at five percent less than market. I needed someone to write up the paperwork."

Henry Hamilton took his seat and reached for a pen. "I'll need a few details, but drafting such a document shouldn't take more than a few hours."

Rhett smiled, his white teeth illuminating his swarthy features. "Well that sounds fine. The farmer lives up in Jonesboro so I might be able to get the contract signed today." His easy drawl at sharp odds with Henry's efficient, clipped speech. "I met him an an engagement party a few days ago on an estate called Twelve Oaks…"

Henry set the pen down. "That was my niece's engagement party!"

"You don't say. Well then, it seems congratulations are in order. Am I correct in hearing that your nephew is also recently engaged?"

The man across from him beamed with pride. He seemed to grow two inches taller. He practically transformed. "Why, yes he has. There isn't a luckier girl in all the south than his fiancée and I imagine there isn't a man more envied."

Much to Rhett's chagrin, Henry Hamilton spent the next hour singing the praises of his nephew, Charles. By the sounds of it, the boy would be canonized upon death. It became crystal clear to Rhett that this relative would be of no assistance on this front. The only useful information he was able to garner was that the wedding would be held in two weeks time.

"It sounds like he will make his bride a very proud wife," Rhett cut in, "but there is a second matter I was hoping to speak to you about."

Henry cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

"I have a business partner who was secretly married sometime ago. Now, normally I wouldn't get involved in another couple's relationship, but he needs to dissolve his marriage, and if knowledge of his union became public, it could hurt our business."

"Well if both parties agree to a divorce, I am sure it could be handled discretely."

Rhett nodded slowly. "I know he has grounds, but I'm not so sure his wife is willing to go away quietly."

"Well, we can't keep women from talking, can we? If I could do that I would have a line of clients out the door." Henry chuckled. "But I would suggest you tell your friend to remind his wife that a quiet divorce would serve her interests. From what I've seen, divorce seems to hurt the woman's reputation more than the man's."

"I'll be sure to pass that advice along," Rhett said.

The next two weeks, Rhett turned over every stone only to discover that Melanie and Charles Hamilton had the respect and admiration of every person whom they had met. On the day of the wedding, Rhett sailed off to England, angry and defeated. He could not explain why this marriage bothered him but he did know his fascination with the girl would pass.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been nearly a year since the morning Miss O'Hara had become Mrs. Hamilton, and every night she still came to him in his dreams. Rhett had long avoided Atlanta because of the little Mrs. but now he had a second reason to stay away from that area. It was just too close to Jonesboro and that would be far too tempting. Unfortunately, the time had come to meet with his suppliers, and with quite a few of them were located near Atlanta, a trip to the city was unavoidable. Rhett would make the visit short.

Belle's business kept her up late so Rhett arranged for several morning meetings over the course of a few days knowing she would still be asleep. If he played his cards right, he could wrap this business up and be out of town before she found out he'd been here.

This morning's meetings were being held at the bank which was located just a few blocks down from Henry Hamilton's business. Walking down the road, Rhett took in all the changes. There was certainly a lot more women in black. What a terrible shame. The color really wasn't flattering. He reached the bank and held the door open for a widow who was exiting. Her figure looked oddly familiar, but her bonnet hid her face. From what he had seen, it was obvious a body like hers had no place in a dress like that.

He went inside, and after speaking to one of the employees, was asked to have a seat in the lobby until the small meeting room he had reserved could be unlocked. He stretched out and picked up a paper that had been sitting on the coffee table. As he unfolded it, he heard his name being called. Looking around, he saw Henry Hamilton crossing the room. He was walking toward him.

"Mr. Butler," the older gentleman greeted.

Rhett set down his paper and stood up. "Mr. Hamilton. It's good to see you again, but please, call me Rhett." He reached out and shook Mr. Hamilton's hand. "What brings you here to the bank?"

"I lost my dear nephew last year." A shadow of grief passed over his features. "I just finished meeting with his widow to discuss some unresolved estate issues."

Rhett could feel his heart skip a beat. Was this man saying what he thought? Was Scarlett Hamilton widowed? "I'm so sorry to hear of your loss," Rhett said. He had to focus on every facial muscle to prevent a smile from forming. "This is the same nephew that was on the cusp of matrimony when we last spoke?"

Henry nodded. "The same. Charlie died of influenza only a few short weeks after he married."

"That must have been very hard for his young bride," Rhett said feigning sympathy. "Hopefully, she will find some form of distraction over the next few days while visiting Atlanta." He pulled the rim of his hat low, uncertain if his eyes could hide his glee.

"Well, her visit is more extended than that. She has been staying with my sister and niece for several months now. As I understand it, they are keeping her busy, but between you and me…" he leaned in and lowered his voice, "Charlie's widow enjoys dancing and parties far more than most girls her age. I imagine she finds mourning somewhat confining."

This could not be. This was all too easy. It was like she had been delivered to his doorstep.

"The room is ready, Mr. Butler."

Rhett looked up to see one of the tellers patiently waiting for him. He bid Henry goodbye and followed the young man to the room. If he thought he'd been anxious to finish up these meetings before, he now knew how wrong he'd been.

He sat in the room nodding and agreeing to far too many amendments because he could hardly focus. His mind was elsewhere and he had things to do. He had to find out when the next event would be taking place in Atlanta and set things up to make sure Mrs. Hamilton would be in attendance. For the first time in over a decade, Rhett had become single focused. He even managed to completely forgotten about his wife.


	7. Chapter 7

Lanterns hung in the trees and the faint sound of music filled the night sky. Rhett could not recall ever attending an event set up to support the glorious cause. Sure, this war was going to make him rich beyond his wildest dreams, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to contributing to something that was destined to cause so much death and destruction.

But he had made an exception for tonight—for her. It hadn't been easy pulling so many strings simultaneously. He had to plant ideas in the minds of several people and had not been able to do so directly. But he had it on good authority that the committee had agreed to his idea of seeking bids to procure dances. Further, they had been so thrilled that he had generously donated the food and decorations for the night's festivities that they intended to officially recognize his heroic war efforts. Making sure she would be in attendance had taken a little more finesse, but he was confident he had succeeded.

He whistled as he walked along the gravel path. The scent of jasmine lingered in the air. The sound of laughter grew louder as he neared the doors.

"Hello, Rhett." Belle stepped out from the shadows.

Rhett looked around, and finding they were alone replied, "Belle, that is an interesting choice of evening wear. What brings you here tonight?"

"Well, I've heard my husband is the honored guest of this little shindig. Seems only right I be in attendance, don't you think?"

Rhett's eyes narrowed into sharp slivers. In a low, hard hiss he replied, "Don't you ever call me that in public."

"Are you afraid you'll scare away who ever it is you're trying to impress?"

Rhett straightened his tie and schooled his features. "This is about business, Belle, and you being here is not helping."

"Business? Is that why you had theater tickets delivered to the McLure girls?" Her voice was low, but fire danced in her eyes.

Rhett smirked before answering. His slow Charleston drawl was filled with amusement. "Belle! How insensitive. I've heard those poor girls had to hurry off to Virginia to collect up their poor injured father."

"Please! As if Dallas would ever see a battle. If he is hurt, it would only be because he fell off a bar stool."

"I can't pretend to know the cause of the injury…"

"You got rid of them and you know it!" Her fists had moved to her hips and her voice had grown loud enough she would soon draw attention.

Rhett took her arm and pushed her behind some bushes. With an angry whisper, he asked, "And why would I do such a thing?" He shook his head and reached into his breast pocket. He withdrew a cigar case and snapped it open.

"Maybe it has something to do with Mrs. Wilkes."

Rhett's eyes grew wide.

"Don't think I haven't heard about how you went snooping around trying to learn about her uncle…"

"Mrs. Wilkes?" Rhett stammered. He burst into laughter.

"Don't try to fool me Rhett. I've seen how you act toward her. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a gentleman." A dark cloud swept over her features. "And I've heard how you curse her husband in your sleep…"

Rhett dragged his hand over his face. "Go home, Belle."

"You should know—you won't get anywhere. And it's lucky for her she has too much honor to have an affair with you. If she were not such a lady, I would tear her apart, starting with her reputation. But she's too good for you and she knows it."

Rhett looked at the cigars for a long while before closing the case and returning it to his pocket, cigars untouched. He had known Belle posed a threat to him, but he had never considered that her jealousy and possessiveness could make her strike out against a rival. He would need to be careful.

He lifted his face. The mocking but hostile mask had been replaced. "Belle, honey, I am not here for Mrs. Wilkes. I'll be spending less time here in Atlanta. It's so far from the ports...well, it's just not practical. I need to strengthen my business connections before I abandon this town."

"You're leaving Atlanta?" Belle's face grew pale despite the rouge caked on her cheeks.

Rhett cupped her face in his hands and placed a tender kiss on her lips. "You know I only come here to see you."

"But you didn't even tell me…"

He bent down and pressed his mouth to hers with an insistent intensity. His tongue demanded entry and her body responded. When he pulled away, all the fire in her eyes was extinguished, replaced by the soft glow of love. Her body was like warm clay.

"I need you," Rhett said in a husky voice. "But I have to do this…for us. Wait for me. I'll come see you as soon as I can escape this infernal ball."

Belle nodded and he watched as she drifted away. Once she was out of sight, he spat before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a handkerchief. He used it to wipe his mouth.

The buzz from the party floated out through an open window and a beautiful tinkle of laughter caught his attention. He would know that sound anywhere. His heart skipped a beat. Thoughts of Belle were stuffed into the dark edges of his mind. Rhett made his way to the front entrance and immediately found her.

Even dressed in black, she was the most beguiling creature he had ever seen. She was talking to a pair of young women and he could feel the warmth of her smile even from the other side of the room. He could have stood there all night, just watching her, but as the women left, a solider approached and he saw the way her green eyes sparkled. Before he had even registered his own actions, he was crossing the room. He'd be damned if he had done all this only to sit back and watch some boy try to take what was his. For make no mistake—Scarlett would belong to him and him alone.


	8. Chapter 8

"Young man, it is positively indecent the way you are looking at the poor widow Hamilton." Rhett had cut the young solider off on his path to Scarlett's booth. His back was to her, and she would never learn what he was about to say to divert the boy. "Her husband hadn't been in the grave for even a year yet, and he died supporting our cause!" He wore an expression of disappointment and scorn. He imagined it was the very same expression his father had given him all those years earlier.

"I…I was just thinking of getting a gift…for my Ma," the boy stammered. His face had turned a dark shade of crimson, and his eyes were glued to the floor.

"Tut-tut-tut." Rhett shook his head and cooed his admonishments. "You might be able to convince one of these gullible women with your sorry excuse, but I was once a man your age. I can see the look in your eyes." He looked over his shoulder and drank in her beauty. She was arranging small embroidered items on the table. Turning back to the boy, he reach up and placed a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Now, she is a lovely lady, but she does not deserve to be scandalized and offended by your brazen overtures. She is clearly devastated over her loss."

"Yes, Sir. I meant no offense."

"No. Of course, you didn't. Now, I will pretend I didn't see what I saw, and I will go over there to protect the poor widow from any other boys who have spent so much time on the battlefield that they have forgotten their manners. But you need to go find yourself someone else to talk to."

Rhett watched the young man hurry away to the far corner of the room with his head hung in shame. _Honor is such a burden to those dumb enough to claim it. _With all obstacles cleared, Rhett turned and looked at the prize. Her eyes lifted and met his with surprise. _Not the young man you were expecting, I see_. His lips lifted in one corner, and a few strides latter he stood opposite her with only a narrow table separating them.

With a tip of his hat, he said, "If it isn't Mrs. Hamilton. Good evening. What brings you here this evening?"

Scarlett batted her eyelashes and was opening her mouth when Melanie, having just finished helping a customer, touched her arm.

"Why, Captain Butler! It is so lovely to see you again. We met at a barbecue on the day the war was announced…at my husband's family estate."

Rhett bowed low and took Melly's hand. He placed a chaste cheek on the back of her glove, hoping his elaborate theatrics would be noted and reported by one of Belle's many spies. "How could I possibly forget a woman as charming as you, Mrs. Wilkes?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the fur on his little green eyed cat stand on end. She arch her back and bared her teeth. He raised his fist to his mouth and coughed in a feeble attempt to hide a snicker. She was clearly not used to watching others receive the attention.

"I…oh…um," Melanie sputtered. It took her a full minute to regain her ability to speak. At last she managed to choke out, "Look, Scarlett, there is Mrs. Meade. I really must discuss something with her."

Rhett's eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched Mrs. Wilkes scurry away. When he turned back toward Scarlett he discovered her perfectly heart shaped lips were pulled into a long thin line and her eyes were half hidden behind her narrowed lids. He was sure he was going to need to break the icy silence that gathered around them, but she surprised him.

"I once heard something about you Captain Butler."

The smell of her perfume hit him, and he longed to reach across the table and take her in his arms. "Oh," he said as if she had just said the most insignificant thing he'd ever heard. "Pray tell."

"It is rumored you are not received by the best households." One eyebrow arched triumphantly. "Watching the way you behaved toward my sister, I can see why."

The edges of Rhett's mouth twitched. "Is that so?"

"It is indeed. Melly mentioned her husband." Scarlett's chest puffed out. He could only imagine the pride she was feeling for her stupid, wooden hero. "He is bravely off fighting, but if word reached him about the way you were flirting with his wife, you might find yourself on the losing end of a duel."

"Oh, now, I doubt that." Rhett leaned down and rested his elbows on the table. The position gave him better access to her scent. If he could just get a little closer, he might be able to touch the heat radiating off her. "I don't want to brag, but I'm a pretty good shot."

She snorted and looked away.

"Besides," he stood back up, deciding the view was better from this vantage point, "It wasn't as if I dragged Mrs. Wilkes into a library and confessed my undying love. I did not plead with her to forget her stupid little fool who can't open his mouth except to say 'yes' and…"

Scarlett gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. "You… you cad! Who told you?"

"Now, now, Mrs. Hamilton. Your secret is safe with me. You nearly took my head off with that vase. I know better than to…"

"You were there?" Her voice was barely audible. She was slowly sinking to the floor.

Rhett reached across the divide and held her waist, preventing her from falling over. "Now Scarlett, this is not the time or the place to lose control. Get it together. If you end up a puddle on the floor, there will be plenty of questions to answer."

Her eyes darted back and forth. He could feel the strength in her legs returning as she again took over supporting her own weight. He knew he could release her now, but he couldn't bring himself to let go.

"Get your filthy hands off me," she snapped in a sharp whisper.

Rhett dropped his arms to his sides and began to chuckle. "You are a fascinating creature, my dear. Tell me, were you actually jealous of Mrs. Wilkes just now or…"

A loud tapping came from the stage, and they both turned to find Dr. Meade standing there, ready to make an announcement. "Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight we have with us a very special guest…"

Rhett hid a yawn and closed his eyes. He had imagined the feeling of satisfaction this little acknowledgement would bring, but instead, he wished the old man would shut-up and they could get to the dancing. He turned to face Scarlett.

Like the dutiful little lady she pretended to be, she watched the doctor with feigned interest. Rhett scanned the crowd. All eyes but his were focused on the stage. Would she interrupt her performance if he touched her? Would she dare make a scene?

He took a step backwards so she wouldn't see it coming. He reached up and allowed his fingertips to run along the edge of her neck just below her jaw. He grasped at a curled ebony lock that had fallen from its hair clip. Her skin felt like satin and her hair like silk. The warmth of her skin sent tingles through him.

She gasped and turned to face him. She looked surprised but not angry. Though there was something in her eyes. Was it possible she too had been able to feel the spark of electricity when their skin had touched?

He dropped his hand and looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "It looked as if your hair was in your way," he whispered.

"Do not touch me again, you varmint," she whispered back.

"Captain Rhett Butler," Dr. Meade concluded.

The room broke out into applause. He flashed Scarlett a self-satisfied grin before approaching the stage.


	9. Chapter 9

"If you wish to lead the reel with the lady of your choice, you must bargain for her…" the doctor's announcement caused a flurry of hushed voices to sweep across the room. The matrons sat in the corner scowling, the girls giggled, the young men anxiously reached for their wallets. Bid after bid was called out, and Rhett looked across the room.

She wore her misery on her sleeve—she was just so ease to read. He had intended to swoop in, promise double the current high bid, force her to abandon this foolish ritual of mourning for a boy she hardly knew and certainly never loved, and allow her to at last dance. It was so utterly obvious this was what she wanted. And giving her what she most desired, despite society's rules, was not only the way to free her but it was the way to her heart.

He cleared his throat, ready to call out his bid, but Belle's words echoed through his mind. If he bid for her now, Belle would know it was never Mrs. Wilkes he'd been after. And Belle would have no moral qualms about ripping Scarlett's reputation to shreds. Scarlett may have done her best to blend in, but no matter what it tries, an emerald will stand out in a sea of quartz. Poor Scarlett was destined to fail. When your brilliance blinds those around you and draws all attention to you, it is natural to be hated. Belle could ruin her in a single afternoon.

The doctor had said there would be several reels. Perhaps, he could bid on a different women for each one, focusing on those in mourning. Would this be enough to hide who it was he truly wanted to hold? Would it be enough to protect her? Could he convince Belle he was attempting to show kindness to those who had already made the ultimate sacrifice for the Cause to ingratiate himself in this community?

If there was anyone that understood the power to be gained by recognizing and catering to the hidden desires of the gentlefolk of Atlanta (despite their protests), it was Belle. Her business was built on charming the opposite gender and convincing them to do things forbidden by society. If he told her he was doing the same thing, would she buy it? A grieving mother would have ample sway over a husband and Belle would surely believe it it would benefit him to keep a few such women in his good graces. But could she be convinced that forcing these women to publicly buck convention was a sound business strategy? Or at least, could he make her believe he had spent hundreds on a lost cause, causing a scandal, and offending a half dozen women because he believed it was good for business? Maybe he could tell her he did it to embarrass the good doctor by making a mockery of his fund raising idea.

Heat rose up to his cheeks. He was Rhett Butler, damn it! He answered to no one. Much less some two-bit whore. Ah, the irony. It was precisely because she was a whore she welded so much power. Someday, once he'd freed them of their money, once he'd stolen Scarlett's heart—then he would no longer need to maintain this thin eggshell he had built around himself. Then, he will truly be free and Belle would hold nothing over him.

Until then, he would do what he did best. Lie and exploit her weakness—her love for him. And, if she continued to assume he was enamored with Mrs. Wilkes, he could use this to his advantage.

"Eighty-five dollars for Mrs. Melanie Wilkes."

A silence fell over the crowd.

Scarlett's eyes narrowed. Was he mocking her? The man who had witnessed the most embarrassing moment of her life, who had known Ashley had tossed her aside for that meek, bland ninny, was now offering to make the very same pathetic woman the belle of the ball! Was he doing this to rub her failure in her face, or had Melanie managed to catch the eye of yet another man?

Scarlett looked him over. He certainly did not look like the kind of man that would be interested in Melly, but then again, what kind of man would be? Ashley. Her heart ached at the thought. Her beautiful Ashley had chosen Melly. Oh, her wounded pride. What she would give to see him leave her.

The pit of her stomach grew heavy. She was thinking of the impossible. Melly played the role of dotting wife perfectly. He would never have any cause to… Scarlett's eyes grew wide and her mouth formed a perfect circle.

Again her eyes swept over the Captain. He had a reputation, but Melly was someone who had to see the best in everyone. She would not steer clear of the man simply because of rumors. And he was handsome. More than handsome. He had something else about him…a certain appeal— a masculine strength and grace. It would not be easy, but with her help, he might be able to seduce the perfect Mrs. Wilkes. And then, Ashley could leave her.

As she was appraising him, Rhett looked over and raised an eyebrow. The expression was positively indecent. If she hadn't been considering how helpful it was that he possessed such rakish tendencies, she would have blushed. Instead, a genuine grin lit up her face. Before she had the chance to observe the impact of her reception to Rhett's gaze, Scarlett turned to Melly and urged her to accept the dance.

"It's for the hospital, Melly. This small sacrifice will earn enough money to save someone… someone like Charlie."

Melanie nodded, gathered her skirts, and declared in a loud voice, "I'll do it."


	10. Chapter 10

It took him three bids before he could finally dance with the fair widow Hamilton. Three sets worth of dull, boring conversations with foolish, bland belles — Mrs. Wilkes exempted. He had focused on selecting the ladies in mourning so

Now, he would, at last, get to wrap his arms around the little vixen who had plagued his dreams since he'd heard a vase smash into a wall during a country barbecue. His excitement was palpable, but he had to hide it. He couldn't let this young delicate creature know how she impacted him, nor could he allow his wife to find out.

The music started and he drew her near. He had bribed the band to play a waltz. He laid down a small fortune for this moment and he would not be sharing his partner through some sort of annoying reel. For the next half hour, he would be holding this exquisite specimen a little too closely while feigning boredom.

He soon discovered his plan was a bit harder to accomplish than he'd imagined. She smelled like heaven and he wanted — no, needed — to breath her in. Her skin looked so smooth and soft, it took all his will not to devour her. Her perfect little rosy lips were puckered into an enticing smirk. But it was her eyes that would be his undoing. They sparkled as if to announce she was in possession of some sort of delightful, hidden knowledge.

"You have done well, Captain, covering your tracks, but I am well aware of what you are up to."

He could feel the warmth of her breath on his neck. Never before had he endured such delicious and excruciating torture. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to," he replied. There was such a long list of deeds He had performed whose tracks had been covered.

"Your generous efforts to aid the hospital are nothing more than a rouse to get close to what you truly want." She leaned in and lifted herself so her lips nearly brushed against his ear. "We want the same thing. And I will make sure you get it."

His pulse quickened. She couldn't possibly be thinking about what he was thinking. It had taken him years to learn all the things he planned to do to her. If she had any idea of what was going through his mind she would be burning up. "Do you? And how do you envision I do that?"

"I can try to secure you a dinner invitation to my aunt's home."

"Oh, there is no need. I can manage to acquire such a thing myself. But do you think you can wait a few weeks? I have some business I need to take care of before I'm seen visiting a home occupied by a widow."

Scarlett's mind went to work. He watched in fascination. It was as though he could see her thoughts through those eyes. "You are right. This must be handled discreetly."

Rhett smiled. Maybe she did have some idea of what he was thinking. She was unlike any woman he had met. It was possible he was mistaken, and she was not quite the ingénue he had judged her to be. He would thoroughly enjoy getting to know exactly why they needed to be discreet just as soon as he took care of his little wife problem.

R&S

"Eighty-five dollars because you think she has influence? Do you really expect me to believe that, Rhett?"

His kiss had ignited a passion in Belle that she had desperately tried to smother for years. She had floated on air and visions of him coming home to her every night had clouded her judgment. But less than an hour after they had parted news that he had bid eight-five dollars to dance with Mrs. Wilkes had reached her ears. Of course, he was enamored of her. How often had he spoken of his mother and what a great lady she was? Mrs. Wilkes was exactly the type of woman that could give him the respectability and standing that he secretly wanted so badly.

"I've already told you, darling, I am trying to strengthen my connections here so we can leave Atlanta and find a place closer to port. Mrs. Wilkes is connected to a big plantation in Clayton County and her uncle represents the interests of several other important landowners."

Belle wanted to run over and claw out Melanie Wilkes' eyes, but she had spent several hours after hearing news of the first reel mulling over her options.

For years, Rhett had refused to see her. He had been as cold and cruel to her as she imagined he was to his father. But tonight she had learned that she had some leverage over him. He was afraid of what she could do to hurt the reputation of the perfect Mrs. Wilkes. Bell could go along with his request and move to New Orleans. If he hoped to keep her in line, he'd need yo visit her. And if Mrs. Wilkes was indeed as virtuous as everyone said, even Rhett wouldn't make much headway until her husband died on the battlefield. But the idea of allowing him free rein to peruse his fine lady did not sit well with Belle. She needed someone to spy for her, someone to keep him in check.

"I understand Rhett. And I can move to New Orleans for you—for us— if you could do one little favor for me."

He raised an eyebrow. He was a selfish creature who wasn't prone to doing anyone any favors, but this one might be different.

"Steven is hell-bent on joining the army. So many boys are dying out there. I know you must be as afraid for him as I am. Could you take him under your wing? Let him work on your boat with you? I know that if you're there he will be safe and if he is running blockades to help the South, he'll feel like he doing his part."

She could see his mind at work. He loved Steven. It would be difficult for him to say no if it might mean the boy would run off to the front lines.

"If I take him with me, you'll move to New Orleans?"

"Of course. I can't have you off trying to protect our son and worrying about my safety at the very same time."

Rhett cringed. "Fine," he said.

Belle smiled sweetly. Having her son by her husband's side was nearly as good as bring there herself.


	11. Chapter 11

Rhett stood on the deck and stared ahead. As the fog rolled by, he could catch small glimpses of land. The sea air had left a coating of salt on his beard and the wind whipped through his shirt. Normally, when he returned to port these things brought along an aching in his heart. They remind him of what he would be missing. But thoughts of Scarlett had been haunting him for the past two months. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to reach land and hurry to Atlanta.

"Already itching to go back into the sea?"

It was Steven. Rhett smiled. The boy couldn't be more than a few steps behind him. That woman had really gotten under his skin. Even the most experienced hunters in that Indian tribe had been unable to sneak up on him during his gold rush days. He turned slowly, "Steven," he greeted.

The younger man took his place alongside him. Steven Butler looked nothing like Rhett. That was no surprise. The chances he had impregnated Belle were always slim. But it was a shock that the boy shared no features with his mother either.

Steven Butler was classically handsome. If Rhett hadn't helped to raise him, he would see that he bore a striking resemblance to Ashley Wilkes. This resemblance went beyond the blue eyes and blond hair. Rhett had accepted immediately that he hadn't sired the boy, but he knew better than anyone that raising and loving the child was what made a father. The two rested their elbows on the railing and looked ahead.

"I have some business to conduct, so I won't be able to accompany the ship down to New Orleans." Rhett tried to sound disappointed, but not too much so. His son knew he was not one to show emotion. "I will be counting on you to help the first mate on that last part of the journey, but it should be smooth sailing. Let your mother know I will be home as soon as I finish up what I need to do."

The rigging overhead creaked and groaned as it stood fast against a strong gust.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Dad. I promised I would keep an eye on you, and I don't think Ma meant out in the middle of the ocean where you are surrounded by five men and water."

Rhett shook his head. How dare a whore have the audacity to try to cage him. "Now Seven, I don't aim to make this awkward for you, but I am in no need of a chaperone..."

"If I arrive without you by my side, she will go back to Atlanta—and any other city where you have clients. She will scream from the church bell towers that you two are married. She is desperate and feels that you are all she has left to lose."

Rhett's knuckles grew white as he squeezed the railing. If Belle was not Steven's mother, he would be earning his title as a sailor that very minute with his words. But instead, he kept his anger inside.

"I don't think she expects you to be a saint," Steven added quickly. "I just think she's afraid you might fall in love..."

Rhett laughed. "Love? Your mother is as crazy as she is controlling. If love is really—which I am not entirely sure I believe it to be—I assure you, I not stupid enough to get within ten feet of it." He stepped away from the edge of the boat and put his hands in his pockets. "I'll prove it to you. You can follow me like your mother's puppy. If you think I'm in danger of falling in love, you can intervene. But as you say, she must have come to accept that I too have carnal needs. If I choose to see to those, there is no reason for you to intervene. And you cannot be so cruel as to hurt her by sharing such details with her. Agreed?"

Steven nodded. Rhett walked to his stateroom.

Rhett stood on a porch attached to a little house on Peachtree Street. He pulled down his coat and lifted a fist to knock. He emptied his lungs through purses lips and turned to his son. "There really is no need for you to accompany me. This is not what you imagine. I was invited to dinner. It would be rude to refuse, but I am certain you will find this evening very dull. You'd have a much better time visiting done of the young bells, I'm sure."

"And miss meeting Mrs. Wilkes? Not on your life, Dad."

A flicker of agitation appeared in Rhett's gaze. Steve wasn't going anywhere. Something didn't add up, and he was going to find out what it was.

"Don't call me that. You know I can't allow news of my marriage to get around. Here, in Atlanta, you are Steven Foster."

"I know," he grumbled under his breath. It was an identity Steven often assumed. It was a fitting name. He had often felt he'd been fostered. Indeed, he'd wished it to be the case at least as often.

Rhett's voice cut through his thoughts. "So once you're convinced that, despite Mrs. Wilkes charms, I am in no danger of falling prey to Cupid's arrow, you'll be on your way?"

He had no time to answer, the door swung open and the most stunning woman Steven had ever seen emerged from the home. She looked over his father with efficiency and shook her head.

"I thought I heard you out here. Were you planning to knock, or were you just going to stand th..."

Rhett cleared his throat and his gaze flickered toward Steven. She turned. Her eyes grew wide. They were a shade of green he'd never before seen. She blinked and just as fast, her expression shifted. Her ruby curled into a girlish smile. She lowered her curtain of lashes and tilted her head just so. He could feel his throat constrict.

"Why, Captain Butler. Why didn't you tell us you were bringing a guest?"

"My apologies, Mrs. Hamilton. May I introduce you to one of the sailors in my fleet, Mr. Steven Foster."

Steven felt a weight in his stomach. Mrs. Hamilton? Was she married? Surely, if she was, her husband was off on a battlefield somewhere.

She held out her hand. "Mr. Foster, please call me Scarlett. Mrs. Hamilton is so formal. It is an honor to meet another brave blockade runner."

He took her hand in his. It was so tiny. He was surprised she had found gloves that fit her. He lifted her delicate fingers to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on her upper knuckles. He instantly became aware of three truths: even if Mrs. Wilkes turned out to be a ninety-year-old crone, he would not be leaving this house until he was thrown out; being raised by Rhett Butler had enabled him to acquire all the charms and skills necessary to capture this magnificent creature; and God had a plan to make it up to him for giving him a prostitute for a mother.


End file.
